The Anati Chronicles
by Ember Nickel
Summary: Charles Darwin: 'It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but rather the one most responsive to change.' From Crayak's sadistic games to their own masochistic ones, the Anati, like shooting stars, break the mold.
1. I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed

My name is Coaratt. 

Not that I was actually allowed a name, of course. The only way I could be a part of society, equal to other folk, would have been to destroy my companions and prove myself exceptional, better than the fate I'd been consigned to. And that wasn't likely.

But despite of everything, we gave ourselves names. Silly names, to contrast with the normal ones. Had I been better, I would have been named something normal like Styfluer. As it was, my blood-sister got that name, from what I could reckon.

We were supposed to keep away from the complexes of the Folk. Venturing out was supposed to be punishable by instant death. And yet, I'd seen my blood-sister (one of them, at least) grow among her people. Had no one seen me?

"It's deliberate," my friend Flaquiv argued with me, as we'd argued before. "They tell us not to do it, so that whoever of us do do it are the ones they want to save the lives of."

"So they want to reward us for breaking the rules? We break the rules just by being alive."

"Maybe that's part of their plan, too. Think about it. They could kill us more quickly than they do, but they don't."

"How do you know?"

"Look at those buildings." She pointed to the horizon, full of jagged rooftops. "They can make _that_! Weapons that can kill would be easy next to that."

"Maybe they don't have the right kind of metal to make weapons."

She shook her fur scornfully. "What do you think they build those out of, dirt?"

"We weren't old enough to remember. They might have been."

"Okay, dirt-boy, tell me this: how does the bell work?"

"The bell? What does that have to do with anything?"

She rose to her feet menacingly. "Unless you want me to ring it, you tell me."

"Flaquiv! Not you!"

She sat down again. "No, of course not me. You take things too literally. But I have a point, and if you tell me how the bell works I'll show you."

I reflected that I'd never won an argument with her. "Someone pulls the rope and the bell rings."

"And the Folk come."

"Right."

"So, if they live way over there, in buildings made of dirt, how do they hear the bell ring?"

I paused, trying to come up with a clever answer.

She called me on it. "Eh-heh. They've got powers. Powers that can hear a bell here in there. And that's why we don't try and think we're as good as they are. You didn't see Pothmur, did you?"

"Of course I did! We knew each other."

"I mean you didn't see him _die_. You were hiding like everybody else."

"So were you."

"But I was paying enough attention to _hear_. They had something that made a noise. A noise we can't make. And something that killed Pothmur."

"Okay, okay."

"I don't know why I bother to talk to you." She strutted off. "You're always the same every time."

I didn't feel like getting up, so I remained seated on the ground, staring out at the city, thinking, as usual, of Styfluer. In this community, it wasn't a smart idea to talk positively about blood-siblings among the Folk, so I wondered about her in the privacy of my own brain. How was she doing? Better than me, certainly.

Yet how was she better? I didn't know the qualifications Folk used to determine who was worthy of inclusion among them, and who would be left to die. Yet I thought positively of myself, and however intelligent or talented I was, Styfluer had to be more so.

In a way, I pitied her. She had no blood-brothers or sisters among the Folk, and so was assigned to another child in similar circumstances. Since she had been a firstborn, her parents were expected to continue producing good progeny. Instead, our blood-brother and sister that followed were cast out, and we had not been able to rescue them.

As I mourned for them quietly, Flaquiv dashed up from behind me. "Coaratt," she yelled hoarsely.

I turned around angrily. "What, I'm suddenly interesting again?"

"No-no, I'm sorry-it's, it's-"

"Enough melodrama."

"I'm serious!" She paused enough to get a breath in, then, "Vidjair's dead."

"If you wanted an excuse to talk to me, you could have come up with something better than that."

"Won't you believe me?"

Females, I noted, cry all too easily. Trying not to consider the possibility that the man who had saved me from starvation had been killed, I strode back. Everyone was panicking, milling around. They saw me and called my name, knowing how close I had been to him.

In spite of myself, I joined them. He had been decapitated, and spots of blood formed a short trail that led to where the knife that killed him had been dropped. I was too numb for it to really sink in, so I changed the subject somewhat. "Has anybody else been killed?"

"No," someone said quietly.

"Well, that's good, right? Nobody's going for the bell?"

"Whoever did it could be just waiting. Subtly, slowly, not all at once."

I turned to see who that was, not trusting my ears. To her credit, she wasn't smirking, which I wouldn't have put past her. But she knew I'd look for her.

"Relax," she said, trying to sound like she was supposed to but at the same time demeaning. "I wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't you?" I challenged.

"You're just too upset right now. We'll talk later."

Unable to resist, I let Flaquiv guide me away. I knew I was acting immaturely, but there were more important things on my mind. I saw her leave, but didn't take interest in where she was going, or what she was doing.

Not until much later, when I heard her pass by. Looking back, that might have been done deliberately, in a ploy for my attention. "Therefore," she said to herself, "the best possibility would be to get everyone involved."

I ignored her.

"I'll be back soon, Coaratt." She made a point of stomping off.

I wasn't able to focus on Vidjair, although I tried. Flaquiv, as usual, dominated me. Even in my private thoughts.

It was a while before she came in at a sprint. She halted at my bed and paused for a moment before saying "Coaratt, look at me."

I was facing the wall, and exhausted all the strength I thought I had turning over and facing her direction.

"_At _me."

I lifted up my head, and saw that she was casually carrying the knife. That galvanized me. I sat up, ready to try and defend myself. I hoped instinct would show me how. No one had ever taught me.

"Now that I have your attention," she continued calmly, "I want your opinion." She threw the knife to the floor. "Oh, and I wasn't going to kill you. I don't know how."

"You cut off my head. Like you cut off Vidjair's."

"I would only have done that if I wanted to hurt _you_."

"And you don't?"

"Listen to this. I was arguing over how to make a bell run-"

"Like you need any advice?"

"It hurts to say this, but you're smarter than I give you credit for."

Trying to flatter or lull me?

"How does this sound? You'd have better luck if someone else was trying, too. Then you could split the load."

"And wind up in a final matchup?"

"Yes."

"But by the same logic, if _everybody_ was killing everybody else…"

"Yes!"

"Do you think that's what the Folk want?"

She paused, then slowly said, "Yes…if they can hear the bell, maybe…maybe they can watch us."

A sort of comeuppance, then, for all the time I had spent watching Styfluer.

"That's what they do for fun-watch us trying to kill each other."

"So that's why they spare us."

She didn't put passion into her words, just cold purpose. "I hate them."

I figured she just wanted to rant, so I lay back down.

Bad move. She shoved her face over mine, subjecting me to her smell. "Do you, almost-Folk? Blood-brother of one of them? Do you hate them?"

"Our parents are Folk."

She moved away, which was progress. "You're impossible!"

"Why don't you think about killing them instead of us?"

She raised her head and looked at me, seeming sort of proud. When did she ever express genuine happiness? "Come with me." Then she took my wrist in her hands.

Another novelty. Despite our arguments, she had never resorted to physical contact. But it wasn't the rough grab I expected. Instead, she felt gentle. We walked to her room: I knew where it was, but she was reluctant to let go.

She finally released me and dashed over to her bed. "Now look at this."

She was pointing to rows of irregular knife slashes on the wall. Specifically, the one in the top right: the first in the count. "See this? That was the day I thought of killing Folk." She ran her hand right to left across the marks, stopping at the last one. "And this is today."

"Every line is a day?" I didn't want to count.

"Yes. But I couldn't do it."

"Of course not! They'd kill you!"

"I don't mean _that_ way…" she began, but then toned down. "I don't know what it's like there. I don't go outside our compound, I don't even rescue people. I would need someone who has been there. Sees what's going on."

"No."

But she didn't hear me. "And if I found someone like that, I could torture him, kill the people he loved…"

I backed away from her, towards the door. She continued talking, thinking I was there. And just as her vision of me couldn't escape her, I couldn't either. When I got back to my room, I found the knife where she had left it, the last of Vidjair's blood permanently staining the floor.


	2. My world's on fire

"Oh, come on. You know I wouldn't do that to you, don't you?" 

The words left my mouth before I thought about them. "No, I don't, Flaquiv. I don't know you anymore."

"You never claimed to know me."

"I thought I did."

She rose from my bed (she had simply invited herself in) and picked up the knife. "Thinking is overrated. Let's act."

"Flaquiv, I can't help you."

"Sure you can. You don't have to do things the same way I do, you just have to show me where I need to go."

"I-I don't have to do anything."

I'm not sure who I surprised more by that comment, her or me.

"I don't want to help you kill anyone."

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"No."

She picked up the knife. I moved away: I was getting faster now that she was continually threatening me. Then she tried to bend it with her bare hands. It slipped out and flew across the room: instinctively, I dove back in. "See? It's not my fault. It's _their_ fault that we have to turn on each other. If we get rid of them, we don't have to be this way."

"If you aren't that way, then…maybe…" I gave up. "Who killed Vidjair?"

She looked indecisive. "Not me."

"Then I should stay here, and find out who did. I…I can't stop you from going to kill. But I can stop being your friend."

"You wouldn't!"

I broke down. "This isn't right…I'm not supposed to have any power…"

"Yes you are. Yes you are. We have to destroy them."

"Go."

She left silently, and was gone for a long time. Or at least it felt long to me. But she came back, looking tired and ashamed, without the knife.

I didn't really want to initiate conversation, so I just got up and walked over to her, trying to nonverbally let her know I was there for her. Finally, she spoke. "I couldn't do it."

"That's-that's good."

"Is it?"

"I think so."

I thought she'd protest that, but she didn't.

"How close did you come?"

"Not at all. They saw me coming."

"And they didn't kill you?"

"They were going to-they still are-you're probably in a lot of danger. Get the others to hide, like when Pothmur rang."

"Come with me!" I pleaded.

"They'd kill us all until they got to me."

"If you're trying to be so noble, why don't you run back out there and save us the trouble of hiding?"

She paused reflectively and then took off. But she was moving so leisurely I was easily able to catch up. "Don't _really_."

"I have to, Coaratt, if I want you or anybody else to survive. If I want to fight back! I have to, you don't know what they're capable of."

"I know they're capable of scaring my friend until she does stupid things."

"They're more powerful than the stars."

If she hadn't been so suicidal, I might have shaken my fur at the humor. "What do you mean?"

"They're making a star fall from the sky. To come and kill me."

She spoke with a fear-based conviction that didn't give me room to doubt.

"So, I'd better get going," she continued casually.

"If they're powerful enough to kill you, it shouldn't matter where you are."

"If a star falls from the sky, and it will, we'll _all_ be dead. Not just me."

"So you think they can pick you out?"

"Yes, which is why you're not going to try anything like going in my place."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, but I hadn't put it past you." (This and other lines, for the reader's convenience, have been translated to include more familiar idioms.)

"Um…you overestimate me?"

"Would you do me a favor?"

Earlier I would have automatically accepted. I was more cagy now. "Depends, what?"

"Come with me. I want you to see how powerful they are."

"Wouldn't that kill me, too?"

"Not if you stand back. All you have to do is come outside."

"Okay." It was the least I could do.

We were the only ones outside. She pointed to a blazing dot in the sky. "That's it, right there."

"Wow." What else could I say? It didn't look like much, but I could tell it was powerful. And falling: it sped up as it approached.

Flaquiv walked forward. "Thanks for everything. I'm sorry I was such a jerk."

"I'm sorry…"

"Would you fight, now? Now that you've seen their power?"

So that was why she'd lured me out here. "No."

She didn't even bother to argue, just resigned herself to it. "Okay."

And she walked forward.

I could have gone back then, but I didn't. I just watched quietly as whatever it was continued falling.

"Hey, Flaquiv?"

She whirled around preternaturally fast, as if she had been expecting me to say something to her. "Yeah?"

"I-I don't think it's coming for you."

She was shocked. "_What_?"

"It's not close enough."

She paused: I think she was working herself up at the prospect of being a martyr. "So what then?"

"It's maybe…just a fluke. We should get inside where it's safe."

She inwardly debated this, then took off past me. I followed: even when she was out of sight inside, her path was clear by the wreckage she left. An acquaintance of ours, Kribzag, had been bowled over. "Where's she going?"

Such was Flaquiv's reputation, that intense displays were regarded as commonplace, and he didn't say something like "What's with her?"

"She-we think there might be a dangerous star falling from the sky. So I guess she's going someplace safe."

Indeed. We heard her holler "Everyone take cover!" just after that.

Kribzag looked at me with wise eyes. "You go make sure she doesn't kill anyone, I'll help the little ones go." Each of us knew our positions to go to: Pothmur had planned them all out for us before he made his "bell run".

"Good idea." I followed Flaquiv before realizing, to my amusement, that Kribzag wasn't much more than a "little one" himself. He hadn't even been around when Pothmur pretended to kill us off. In fact…

I let memory confirm my immediate thought. He had been the last one that Vidjair rescued before dying.

"Are you going to ring the bell?" a little girl asked as Flaquiv guided her underground.

"No." She seemed exasperated by this unintelligence, even though it was a reasonable conclusion. "Get down."

Frantic as usual, she worked feverishly while I followed along protectively. Finally, we heard a cataclysmic explosion as whatever it was collided with our planet.

Our buildings were destroyed. That was the first effect I felt: the ceiling crashing in on us. I managed to anticipate where to stand for the impact, but Flaquiv wasn't so lucky. She was pinned under the roof.

I grasped the edge and heaved. "Flaquiv? Are you okay under there?"

She moaned.

Annoyed at her but scared for her at the same time, I kicked the roof. It rose a little, then fell back on her, which only caused her to wince again. "Can anybody help me?"

Kribzag quietly joined me. "Okay, um, here's what you have to do. Go around to the other side and climb up. Your weight should flip it over, and then I'll pull Flaquiv out.

"Are you sure?" Science wasn't really my thing.

"Yeah." And I believed him. Somehow he was able to show he was completely sure of himself, without being arrogant or mean like Flaquiv would have. So I walked around the rubble and followed his instructions. This led me to the top of the shard, and Flaquiv still stuck underneath.

Kribzag was genuinely surprised that it hadn't worked. "Um, maybe if you crawl under and push it up?"

"You try," I replied lazily.

And of course, he did. And of course, he didn't remember I was standing on top of it. So I went sliding back and crashed into what had formerly been a wall, and he fell down, exhausted from the effort. "We need more help."

After complaining about getting hurt (when Flaquiv, right there, was clearly doing much worse), I replied. "Go get the others."

And so after rousing the survivors, he trooped back in and together, they lifted it up. Straining, he yelled, "You want to do your part now?"

Oh. Apparently Flaquiv couldn't muster the strength to get out…well, it wasn't her fault! I slid underneath and tugged at her. As soon as she was out, Kribzag and his crew dropped it and relaxed, panting.

She glared at me. "If my mouth hadn't been pressed to the floor…"

Kribzag kept us serious. "So who's still alive?"

"We should go look." Back in charge again.

"And…" If I didn't bring it up now, I probably wouldn't get the chance. "And what about the Folk?"

"They deserved it!" Some things not even a session trapped under the ceiling can change.

"All right," Kribzag addressed Flaquiv. "Go ahead and look."

She stepped "outside"-everything was just about as open as everything else now-and began methodically poking her head into likely spots. As soon as I figured Kribzag wasn't looking, I scanned the skyline. The Folk's buildings had been toppled as well. No sign of where Styfluer would be.

But I went anyway, wandering aimlessly, and therefore had the privilege of being the first to see the second arrival from the sky.

It was a fleet of mechanical objects, similar yet not identical. All of them glowed in the light of the sun. And they produced a sort of noise.

"Flaquiv!" I called, then impulsively included the younger boy. "Kribzag! Come look at this!"

Kribzag beat Flaquiv there. "Whoa…what is that?"

It continued making noises that sounded like nonsense words. Then it switched to our own language. "I am here to help you."

"What…what are you?" I let Kribzag do the talking: I was transfixed. Not even the Folk's buildings were as majestic and impressive as these.

No response, just more gibberish. By this time Flaquiv had joined us. "What are those?"

"I don't know, I think it's trying to talk to us," I explained.

She regarded the blabbering dismissively. "Sure doesn't sound like it. It could try harder."

The gibberish continued, cycling through different inflections.

Finally, Flaquiv took action. As per usual. She approached the nearest of the objects and began banging on it. It opened up. "See? Sometimes things work."

And we heard a voice from inside: mechanical but alive. "Are you alive, Folk?"

Bad question. Very bad question indeed. "FOLK? I AM NO FOLK!" And Flaquiv began wrecking the machinery.

"Stop! I want to help you!"

"Help the Folk." She battered a metallic surface.

"What are you?" It sounded genuinely confused.

In some languages I have heard that there a different word is used when referring to people than when referring to objects or general things, like species. Had ours been one of them, Flaquiv would have probably destroyed the entire set of objects at the insult. But luckily, it was not. "I'm Flaquiv."

"And how many Flaquiv are still alive?"

She shook her fur. "Just me, I guess."

"Oh. I'm very sorry to hear that."

"It's fine."

"Do you…want to come with me?"

"Come with you? What are you?"

"I…I don't know."

She shook her fur uncontrollably. "I don't think so, then!"

"If you stay here, you will die. At least if you come with me, we will both have company."

"I have company here."

"But…you said your species was all dead?"

"Oh no," she replied flippantly, "they're fine."

"Flaquiv isn't our species," Kribzag hollered, "it's her name."

"So you have survived!" It sounded joyous, happier than I thought a bunch of metal boxes could sound.

"Um, yeah."

"I apologize for not being able to save you."

"But…we're not dead."

"Your species will die, unless you are significantly…" It used a word we didn't recognize. "altered."

"What do you mean?"

"There are forces in the universe that have no intent but destruction. Your planet has been ruined. I can try and save you, but it will be risky."

"How risky?" I asked as Kribzag and I approached.

"I would have to operate on each of you individually, changing your…" Another word we didn't know.

"Which is what?" Kribzag urged.

"The…" We didn't get much farther than that. Clearly, whatever science it was talking about was way too advanced for us.

"I…I don't know." He backed away. "It's too complicated for me to trust."

"What about you, Flaquiv? Are you going to try it?" Taking the initiative was not my strong point.

"It called me Folk."

And _that_ was going to stop her from trusting it? "It didn't know any better."

"I don't think we should be calling…it…okay never mind." Kribzag looked flustered.

I took another step closer to the machines. "I'll try. I'll let you do whatever it is."

"Good. Thank you for trusting me."

I was really only doing it to shut Flaquiv up, but I wasn't going to tell it. "What should I do?"

"Come over to…um…keep going." I walked among the gleaming things until it gave me further directions. "That one. Come in here."

What could have been a door opened, except it was way too small. "I can't fit."

"Oh…Whatever. Just break it."

"Break it? How?"

Flaquiv joined me and kicked the metal. "Like that."

"You're destroying it!" Kribzag cried.

"No." It sounded more disappointed than arrogant. "You cannot destroy me. Keep going, open the wall."

We wound up using some of the same techniques we had used liberating Flaquiv to pull it apart. Finally, I could squeeze through. "All right," it said, whatever it was. "Lower your head into this slot." Lights flashed around a dark hole that looked like a cylinder going back.

"Good luck, Coaratt." Flaquiv looked scared. It had been less than a day, yet so much had happened, and I'd seen so much emotion in her, emotion I hadn't believed could exist.

Thinking about that, I put my head in. There was nothing to see, only the darkness of the enclosure. I couldn't hear or smell anything either, but all of a sudden I felt a sharp prick in my head. It was going to kill me! I opened my mouth to scream, but I was unconscious before I could.

But I did awake, however, with Kribzag and Flaquiv leaning anxiously over me. I was outside, lying on the cold ground. Inside that tube, I had become the first of a new species.

I stood up and walked around. Everything _felt_ the same, normal. "Do I look any different?"

Kribzag sized me up. "No." Then he stepped towards the machines. "I…I want to try."

"Excellent!" it replied. "Come in where the other was."

We got to see just how long it took: I'd been out for a while. From what Kribzag could understand and explain to me, there were tiny things inside our body it had to change. They were so tiny that there were lots and lots of them, and lots and lots to be changed. But it didn't get bored. After Kribzag went Flaquiv. And after her, many more of us.

A few died in the process, and a few rejected the stranger. But by the time the lines had gone through, the vast majority of us had been invisibly transformed. The last to go through was Buctarl, a girl who had been looking around for other survivors, Folk or otherwise. She had found none.

"Good luck to you, then." The conglomerate spoke through the hole we had made. "I probably should have been gone by now, but…" It didn't want to discuss that subject. "It will be difficult for you to die naturally, but if you decide to reproduce anyhow, your children will be born with the necessary adaptations."

"Thank you for helping us." Kribzag had tried to learn its technology, but it was too far beyond him.

"You're welcome."

Even more majestic than its landing was its takeoff. Fire seared the ground below as each unit, in unison, lifted into our atmosphere. And then they were accelerating, filling the sky with smoke. Pretty soon I was on the ground, struggling to breath through it. Despite their pride, Flaquiv and Kribzag soon joined me, then Buctarl. The only person who remained standing through it was Pothmur's blood-brother Jonkswa. By the time the rest of us were able to inhale again, the guest was out of sight.

Buctarl asked the question on everybody's mind. "Now what?"

"We'll sleep under the heaps," Flaquiv stated grimly. "If the moss is still growing, we'll eat it, if not, there will be dead bodies around."

"To…eat?"

"Yes."

Buctarl was revolted by this, but Jonkswa seemed rather interested. Flaquiv capitalized on it. "You want to go hunt around for some?"

"Yeah, um, actually." He seemed quite embarrassed about enjoying the concept.

Flaquiv, of course, was delighted by this. "Great! Come back if there's anything too large for you to lug."

At that, Buctarl just lost it and began darkening to an ugly shade. Kribzag escorted her away, Jonkswa set off, and all of a sudden it was just Flaquiv and me. She apparently had been waiting for an opportunity like that to express her insight.

"I think I know why the Folk value themselves and not us."

It didn't make a word of sense to me. "What?"

"What tells us apart. Why they cast us out. And…it would make perfect sense, why they don't have to kill us."

"What are you talking about?"

"The difference is that they can reproduce."

"They can have children?" As I repeated her, I tried to remember any incidents of births among our people. There weren't any.

"Right. And that's why they get rid of us, because we're no good."

"So without them around, we'll eventually die out."

"Not if we live forever."

"But we won't."

"Nobody will get killed with the Folk gone! The bell will have no meaning!" And on that note, she ran over to the mess that had been our home. "Oh, it's broken."

"So how do they tell who can reproduce or not?"

"I…I don't know. We're not as smart as them."

Involuntarily, my fur began to twitch.

She was indignant. "Coaratt, it's not funny!"

"Well, yeah it is, from you."

"Huh?"

"To think that we're inferior to the Folk somehow…"

"Kribzag's smart. Hey! Kribzag!"

He turned from Buctarl. "What?"

"Do you know how to reproduce?"

For some reason he looked very offended at that.

"Yes or no?"

"Yes, um, I mean, no, I wouldn't want to, but I do have, a, hypothesis."

"What is it?"

Apparently, he didn't want Buctarl to hear it, or didn't think she should. After conversing for a while, he finally gave up trying to explain, very embarrassed.

So Flaquiv distilled the facts for me. "We'll have to try, I mean, we want to survive. After we're dead."

"We do?"

"I think we should try reproducing. Kribzag's theory sounded pleasurable."

"What do we do?"

"Come with me…"


	3. The ice we skate

_Dedicated to Sinister Shadow: Thanks for your interest in this fic!_

"Stay there, Pothmur."

Frail and starving myself, I shuffled over to our residence. Constructed from pieces of destroyed buildings, they rarely were used for anything. But at least it was a guess to where Flaquiv might be.

Sure enough, she was huddled against it. She'd narrowed like all of us had, but not as extremely. Still, she gave no sign she'd noticed me.

"Flaquiv?"

"Ah, Coaratt!" Even now, she could still express her happiness at seeing me.

I, however, had none such joy. "Where is the food?"

"Food? You know there is no food."

"I know I have no food. But how have you survived and remained so strong?"

"I'm lucky."

"Then give your luck to our son."

Our first child had been a girl who I had named Styfluer. Probably in direct revenge for it, Flaquiv took responsibility for naming the second. "How is he?" she said vaguely.

"He is dying. Because of you."

"What?" Finally, a reaction. "Of course not!"

"If you had shared your food, things might have gone differently." I went on the attack.

"I have no food to share!"

Somehow, as if illuminated, I saw the way to go about it. "I'm sorry. Of course, if you did find any, you would."

She paused, scrutinizing me. "I would, certainly."

"All right. Thank you."

I headed out. As I predicted, it wasn't long before she emerged, checking to make sure I wasn't around, and racing over to Pothmur. He moaned feebly as she tried to force-feed her precious supply of moss to him. When she seemed engrossed, I approached, but wasn't able to tolerate the sight for very long. So I drifted back to our residence.

I was in dull stasis for awhile, too dimly-aware of the passage of time (even though we had no way of measuring it) to be asleep, too weak to be awake. Then whimpering returned me to full consciousness, which was becoming unappealing. "Coaratt?"

That was me. "Yeah?"

"He's dead. Pothmur."

I stumbled over to where Flaquiv knelt. "Oh."

"That's all you can say?"

I still blamed her, but it was more difficult to say so. I was too tired. "Yeah."

Sulkily, she traipsed off. I stayed down, grieving for my son until the sky went dark. It was Buctarl who brought me the moss Pothmur hadn't been able to eat. "You need food, Coaratt," she gently urged me.

"No-we have to save it."

"You haven't eaten today, have you? Go ahead."

Reluctantly, I took it. Dry from its storage, it had no taste, and I almost regurgitated it. Some inner reflex, however, told me how necessary it was that I eat.

And in the distance, I heard a bell. _The_ bell.

"Hold on a second." Buctarl seemed aware of something I missed. "I'll be back soon."

I assumed that I would have returned to that surreal state, but with my minor nourishment, I wasn't able to. So I watched Buctarl fade from vision, and then, abruptly, heard her as clearly as if she was standing next to me. The sweet girl had been pushed to screaming. "What have you done?" I couldn't hear who replied, or what they said. But it wasn't what she wanted to hear. "Nothing is worth…" She trailed off, weeping.

And Jonkswa approached me. "Flaquiv told me to tell you to go to bed but she can't come because she's going to go argue with Buctarl and Kribzag." All in one breath.

"What?"

"Just go to bed, okay? You're tired."

And I was. I made it halfway to our residence before giving up and falling asleep out on the ground.

When I woke up, I actually felt okay. Not good emotionally, and not great physically. But better than I had: the moss had done its work. "Hey! Flaquiv! Where are you?"

"Coaratt!" She came over, with Buctarl, Kribzag, and Jonkswa trailing after. "Right here!"

Too much to say, but not enough to fill the silence. "Buctarl?"

"What." No inflection.

"Who were you yelling at?"

Her emotion returned. "The killer!"

Jonkswa, and, for once, Flaquiv, stepped back from her and her rage. Kribzag stayed where he was impassively.

I felt helpless without the knowledge they evidently had. "What's going on?"

"He's been killing people!" Buctarl's voice quavered.

"I have not," Kribzag calmly dismissed her accusation.

This pushed her over the edge. "You-I _saw_ you! You _confessed_!"

"To one person, sure, but not more than one. Yet."

"Kribzag," I propped myself up, "I don't know what you're doing, but whatever it is is upsetting Buctarl. I know she's not normally like this. For her sake, would you stop?"

I could tell my words had hit home, but he argued back. "No. I know all of you-well, most of you-are smart enough to see what's going on. We-there are too many of us."

Jonkswa counted the small group we formed. "Five?"

"No, I mean in general. Now that we're reproducing, there are more of us than there normally should be. And there's no point in ringing the bell-"

"So why'd you do it?" Buctarl interjected.

"-so we don't kill each other off. And I rang it because I had to. I need to let you know what's going on."

"I think we need to know what's going on too," Jonkswa added.

"There are too many of us. Either we'll starve, or we'll kill ourselves."

"No we won't." Flaquiv faced him argumentatively.

"One or the other, yeah."

"It'll be just like when we had to go for the bell!"

Kribzag was not as appalled by this as Flaquiv had hoped. "Yeah, I guess it will."

"I'd rather starve," Buctarl backed up.

"Okay," he said flippantly. "Go ahead. I don't want to hurt you."

She slowly walked away from us. Realizing this could be dangerous, I followed. "Hey. Please, come back."

"Why do you care about me?"

"We're all gonna have to work together to survive. And we _will_ survive." My brain raced my mouth to comprehend the words pouring out.

"Kribzag's smarter than you-well, than me."

"Remember the things from the sky? They were smarter than Kribzag. And they said we'd live."

That swayed her. I led her back, but found that Jonkswa and Flaquiv were rapidly leaving the premises. Buctarl immediately accused Kribzag. "What did you do now?"

"I made a suggestion as to how we could survive," he cagily answered. "Don't blame me for them running away."

"What sort of suggestion?" I got direct.

"That we…consume…food?"

"What's consume?" Buctarl asked innocently.

"Eat!"

I continued prompting him. "So why did they leave?"

"Because they didn't like my suggestion."

"Kribzag, who did you kill?"

I'd guessed right: he walked off darkly.

"What?" Buctarl had been left behind.

"He's…extreme."

We wandered together until we found Flaquiv and Jonkswa. The former was enraged. "What does he think we are?"

"He thinks we want to survive, and I don't blame him." Jonkswa saw Flaquiv's expression and quickly amended, "Not that way, of course."

As Buctarl tried to puzzle out what we were talking about, Kribzag came back to us, holding a bloody lump. "Here. Share this, I've eaten enough." He looked pointedly at Flaquiv. "I found a dead Folk."

Reluctantly, she ripped at it. Jonkswa broke off a portion, and Buctarl gnawed at the remainder.

"Coaratt?"

"I'm not hungry," I lied.

"How can you not be hungry?"

"I found a little moss earlier."

"Oh?" He pretended to be interested. "Where?"

I led him off towards the Folk's ravaged buildings. When the others were out of earshot, I rounded on him. "I know perfectly well that that isn't a Folk."

"We need to survive."

"Kribzag, you're the smartest person I know, but sometimes I feel like I know more than you. Do you know what it would mean to Flaquiv, if she knew the truth?"

He stared at me blankly, giving me the answer I had predicted.

"I want to survive, but I don't deserve to any more than the people you kill for me to eat."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He turned away and walked farther into the rubble, removing a lopsided metallic object. "What do you think this is?"

"Nothing, anymore."

"It could be something." He abruptly grasped another object. "This I don't know what it is, either. But I know what I can do with things like it."

"What?"

"You can't figure it out?" He held it out: it was maybe half as tall as we were, and extended towards my chest.

"I can guess." I grabbed the other end, hoping to hold it for defense. It was very cold, like the things that hung down from the tops of our buildings when we'd had buildings. "I wonder if this is one of those ice sticks?"

"Big enough for the Folk's buildings, yeah." He was getting agitated. I wondered if he was going to do something stupid, so I tried pulling the stick out of his hands. It came out easily: he'd relaxed his grip to focus on the reflective thing.

Knowing he was watching me, I set the other end of the stick down on the ground. He dropped the roundish object with a _clang_. "Take it, like you took the stick."

"I don't want it." I playfully swung the stick at the metal and batted it towards him.

Instantly and instinctively, he changed. Savagely, he lunged at it, trapping it against the floor.

I shook my fur. "What was that for?"

"I don't want you getting it past me." He picked it up and tried to heave it over my head, but I wielded the stick and swatted it down. Soon, we were expending all our energy on the harsh and pointless task. Considering that we did not have very much to begin with, that was a bad idea. He eventually poked it past me, and we both collapsed in relief. "If I'd had a stick, I would have done it faster."

"So go get one."

He staggered up and presumably followed my advice. I was left to wonder how we'd come up with what we had, and whether anything had been truly right. Surely it was right of Flaquiv and me to reproduce? Our children were so glorious and beautiful that it would be impossible to imagine them not having existed. Yet Kribzag claimed that we would be better off with fewer people. It had not been little Pothmur's fault that he was not frail enough to survive. Was Kribzag right to choose who would live or die?

"Only if he's playing with stupid Folk things, which sounds about accurate." I'd been speaking aloud, and Flaquiv had overheard.

"Hi." I pulled myself up. "Did he talk to you?"

"Not just that: he's gotten Jonkswa to make those sticks. And the little kid got one past me, too."

"Sorry?"

"No, it's okay." She sat down next to me. "I just don't want to believe he's right."

"He-Jonkswa?"

"Kribzag!" And up she went again. I only noticed then that her hand was scratched where she'd dug her stick in. "I mean, we're getting old, yeah…but not that old?"

"It wouldn't be so bad, really, to die." But even as I said that I thought, not of Pothmur, but of the thrill in fending off Kribzag.

"Yes it would."

And we weren't old enough to have changed: even now, I knew the futility of argument. "So do you have an idea?"

"We go on the offensive."

Now I was fully confused. "I thought you disagreed with him!"

"I wasn't suggesting we go around killing innocent people."

"So we-oh. But Flaquiv, how?"

"You mean you'd actually help me?"

I'd walked right into it. "No. I was asking how you'd do it, I mean, you weren't able to with the Folk…"

"I'd get a stick and come up from behind."

I tried to envision them in my mind's eye. For all his analysis, Kribzag wasn't all that big. Flaquiv, on the other hand, did seem big enough to take him down. Or had I only exaggerated her because she was so scathing compared to me?

"So I guess you won't help me?"

"No, of course not."

Not one for excessive speeches, Flaquiv began her quest for Kribzag.

And of course, I followed: not to protect Kribzag, but rather Flaquiv. There was so much that could go wrong.

She, however, was so focused that she did not notice me. When we did glimpse Kribzag (beating around another one of those strange metal items), I angled towards him, but she veered away. Now curious, I followed intently.

"Hey!" she called, and I flinched, thinking she had spotted me out. "Jonkswa!" Or not.

He, too, was engrossed when she found him, engaging in that stupid fad with Buctarl, and did not answer.

"Okay then." She trotted into their zone of competition, and began assisting Buctarl in any way possible to move the object past Jonkswa, hoping to get him to stop. This degenerated into her reaching her sore hand down to grab the thing, and Jonkswa mauling it callously. I joined him in trying to hold off Flaquiv: the longer she spent resisting us, the less opportunity for her to kill Kribzag. "Which one do we have to get it past?"

"Um, both of them."

The strategy was obvious. "Buctarl, run away!"

"What?" She didn't get it.

"They won't be able to get it past you."

"That's not fair!" Flaquiv followed her.

Kribzag loitered. "That's right, it isn't." He scratched the ground with his stick. "What if we made lines that the thing had to cross?"

"I don't care. It's your game."

He looked at me somewhat pityingly. "No it isn't."

"Whose is it, then?"

"Yours." He strode across the ground and made another mark.

"What did I do?"

"You hit the first disk."

Wanting to deflect the comment, I noticed, "Those are pretty close to each other."

"So what?"

"Well, the whole point of having the lines is for when there are more than one."

"See? You are important to it. I'll make another line farther out."

I needed to shut up.

"So how many do you think there should be at a time?"

"What?" Here I was, with the chance to warn him about Flaquiv's threat, and I was prattling.

"Two on each team? Three?"

"Depends on who they are."

"Who would you want on your team?"

"Flaquiv-"

"Good, yes. Jonkswa's pretty tough, and Buctarl…she won't want us to leave her out." Kribzag tried to downplay his emotions. "And I want to be on your team, so five?"

I didn't care.

And then there was Flaquiv, stick gleaming, charging towards Kribzag. Grabbing his own stick, holding it diagonally across his chest, fending it off as she attacked. On the defensive, trying to keep her from passing as much as he fought to save his life. And me? Did I help my closest friend? Did I try to break up the fight?

No. I ran away.

I didn't have to go far until I saw Jonkswa, nervous, and Buctarl, shrieking. "Stop it!"

"You were mad at him for killing people," Jonkswa reminded her.

And for a horrible interval, I thought he'd do it again. Flaquiv was on the ground, and he snatched up her stick. As he pointed it down at her, they held a conversation I couldn't hear until her anguished "Coaratt!". As fast as I could, I made my way to her side.

Kribzag looked up at me. "It's your game."

I grabbed at one of the two sticks he was holding and wrenched it away. "Flaquiv, run!"

She pulled herself up but stayed. Behind me, Jonkswa and Buctarl were approaching.

"She's my friend."

"He's a killer."

"What should I do?"

Nobody answered me.

"Do you want to starve, Flaquiv?" Kribzag ignored the weapon I held.

"No."

"There are worse ways to die. Both of you." I set the stick down. "And better."

Again, no sound until Jonkswa attempted to alleviate the silence. "Nice job at not getting killed."

Instead of thanking him, Kribzag looked at Buctarl as if seeing her for the first time. "You went around-you know where people are."

"Yes."

"And Coaratt, what did you say?"

Against my better judgment, I repeated. "There are better and worse ways to die than starving and killing."

"Right. Come with me, Buctarl-I promise I'll never kill anyone else again." He waited for her to catch up to him before picking a direction and walking off.

"I'll come too," Jonkswa exerted himself to reach them. "Just in case…"

But Kribzag stopped and turned around. "I need a disk."

Jonkswa rushed to supply him with one.

Without expressing thanks, he led them away.

"I'm scared, Coaratt." Flaquiv turned to me once they were gone.

"I'm hungry."

"Let's go home. Back to-" But instead, she wandered in another direction.

"Flaquiv, don't blame yourself." I carefully avoided relieving her of fault.

"Kribzag was a killer, and me? I'm no better."

"Yes you are."

Challenge mingled with the grief in her eyes. "Why?"

I could do nothing but guide her home, where we were too weak to even take a ration of moss before collapsing into sleep.

When I woke up, there was meat in front of me. I ate. As sight slowly returned, I noticed Flaquiv passing moss to Kribzag, which naturally caused me to comment. "I take it you're not trying to kill him?"

Sourly, she explained. "I had bet him you wouldn't eat the meat without knowing what it was. I lost."

"What is it?"

"It doesn't matter," Kribzag said hurriedly. "Just eat."

I did, a little more uncomfortably.

"We're going to play that game." Flaquiv made no effort to hide her disdain.

"Who?"

"Kribzag found another team."

"Wait-other people have been playing?" Jonkswa's presence, combined with the others', told me Buctarl would be there too.

"No." She didn't try and conceal her exasperation. "He taught them."

"Why?" Buctarl questioned.

But Kribzag didn't answer.

After that uneasy period, Flaquiv strutted out. Kribzag followed, looking ashamed, and the other two obediently. Lazily, I rose and exited behind them, picking up a stick Jonkswa had formed before I even realized I was doing it. Luckily, I snapped into myself, though continued carrying it.

Kribzag had designed a large circle for us to compete on. I couldn't recognize our opponents in the distance, and didn't particularly want to. Kribzag invited one of them to the middle, where they had a brief conversation before retreating to their own sides.

"Okay." He looked at us nervously. "The disk is in the middle, so just get it past the line."

"Okay!" Flaquiv spoke brightly…too brightly, perhaps.

With no clear way of beginning, we just slowly approached it, except for a loitering Kribzag. Apparently, someone on the other team was attempting to protect the line without going for the disk, so the remaining eight of us stayed in a deadlock. Flaquiv yelled over it. "We need to break up this."

She dodged back, closer to Kribzag. The advantage our opponents now had was enough to push them closer to our line, but her defense kept them at bay. Eventually, they copied that tactic, making the center even.

As Jonkswa fell back, I stayed on the attack, captivated by the rhythm of the game. The drive forward was obsessive, and I could think of nothing but the disk and the line. Yet somehow I was able to remain conscious of Buctarl, small enough to dart between the others, and shuttle the disk back and forth to her.

But that was not enough. For all Flaquiv's rage, Jonkswa's strength, Buctarl's kindness, Kribzag's shrewdness, and whatever ability I had, we simply did not have the physical skill the others did. As I was passed, I ran back as fast as I could, hoping to catch the possessor while knowing the futility of it. Buctarl, Jonkswa, Flaquiv-each were overcome.

Until finally, only Kribzag stood between five and the line. He did what he could, trying to predict their paths, but failed as we knew he would. The disk skidded and halted, as if unsure of what to do next.

Kribzag wasn't, though. He waved us out to the center and held his stick pointing out from his chest.

I dropped mine and grasped his, fighting for it like we had inventing the game, though afraid of a greater risk this time.

"Let me go, Coaratt. Take your own."

"No."

"What's going on?" Buctarl was still holding hers, unsure what to do.

"Hold it like-well-" Kribzag yanked. "How I _would _be holding it-how I was…"

Jonkswa adjusted hers for her.

Now a little worried, the winning team started to back away.

"No!" Kribzag called. "You need to see this. You need to know."

"Are you going to explain what you're doing, or not?" Flaquiv leaned on her stick impatiently.

"We can't have too many kids, remember? Or people?"

I tightened my grip, but the winners were crowding me, helping Kribzag. I couldn't explain the irrationality, any more than I could explain my own dedication to the game once playing. They seized my hands but gently removed them from Kribzag's stick, leaving him alone.

He turned to me. "I'll be right. In the end, you'll know. The other team will learn this as part of the game, and you won't be able to stop it. I'm right-"

I squeezed my eyes shut.


	4. IV: full title inside

IV: I need to get myself away from this place_  
_

_Dedicated to Myitt for the RP fun!_

_(( and )) indicate thoughtspeak._

"What do we do?" Buctarl had asked, once the four of us had gotten sufficiently far away not to be too disturbed.

"We play more," Jonkswa replied, "and if we're lucky, we win."

His words proved to be as prophetic as Kribzag's. The remnants of our team wandered after that: even though most of us were still intact, Kribzag had united us for the game, and after it, we had no bond (except, of course, Flaquiv and I). Gradually I realized that I was being seen as the leader, which I attempted to change. Unsuccessfully.

We were solicited, of course, by potential opponents. When Jonkswa thought we could beat them and they were still desperate to play, Buctarl would usually recruit a fifth person for us. Obviously, we won: they had learned Kribzag's version of the game, and would not have let us leave alive had we lost. How we won was impossible to determine: I didn't understand Jonkswa's assessment of talent, though it seemed we had more than most, as evidenced by our continued survival. But the other teams played with a unity we couldn't imitate, not with the addition of a fifth.

Though, sometimes, between the four of us "originals", there would rise up a sort of connection completely unlike the bond between Flaquiv and me. When it was there, it didn't really enhance our play, but I felt like it _could_, and exerted even more effort to excel. But the feeling would dissolve as quickly as it came.

We were truly the originals. Once in a while, someone would realize the futility of the game. The Pothmurs of their time, they refused to play: some stole moss, others deliberately let the disk pass them, crossing the line, and then stalked off. Some went as far as to reproduce, claiming there was no shortage. While I wept for them, a part of me hoped that what they said could be true.

And it never was. Those who returned soberly admitted defeat, and joined us in teaching the message to a generation produced in error. Flaquiv saw that as proof that we needed to be more active in letting others know why the game was important, but in fact, the responsibility had shifted from our hands. One generation's rebels would become the instructors of the next, leaving us as antiquated exiles.

"These we can take," Jonkswa ruled. "Easily. They're so small, I can't believe they haven't lost yet."

"Maybe it's their first game," Buctarl suggested.

"They could be the…children of our, of our children, and then theirs…"

Generation counting or not, mathematics had never been Jonkswa's strong point. Not even intellectual Kribzag, I reasoned, would have been able to keep track of the time that passed. Days and nights were relevant only in that it was much harder to play in the night. The stranger's curse meant that we could not die.

And yet, we weren't smart enough to even be able to consider killing ourselves without the game as facilitator. We had never lived very long with the Folk as a threat, and our increased age brought no maturity. Bound in the confines of the game, we didn't have the intelligence to do anything new except shoot down impossible ideas.

Until that day, the day of my last game. Buctarl was strolling off, stagnant in her role as scout, when I yelled for her to stop. She turned slowly, feet like large pads.

"Jonkswa, how bad did you say they were?"

"Impossibly bad."

"We can win, or lose, just as the four of us."

"It'll be losing," Flaquiv muttered.

"Do you mind? Really?"

I looked at her. Stared her down, as she glared right back at me.

But for the first time, I didn't look away.

"We will play," Jonkswa called to them. By this time, they feared us, but not enough to flee in shame.

We took the same positions we always did: Buctarl and I in front, Jonkswa and Flaquiv behind. Anyone Buctarl dragged out would be consigned to Kribzag's former location. This formation was copied by most of the other teams, though some made minor modifications. This time, though, we were acutely conscious that Jonkswa and Flaquiv were the last defense.

Yet we won handily. The other team was as disorganized and inexperienced as Jonkswa claimed, and it did not take us long for Buctarl to slide the disk across. She no longer felt shame in doing so: early on, Jonkswa and Flaquiv had urged her to surrender her position, knowing they'd be more capable of consigning others to death. But she had hardened, and whether or not I accepted it, I had too. Somewhat.

The others casually performed the ritual of defeat. Would I be as complacent, when my turn came? The question always nagged in the back of my mind, but I'd pushed it aside, waiting to lose. Maybe I'd just be glad to get it over with.

We set out silently. Many days could pass before we found others. The longer the better, to some degree. The fewer there were, the more moss for us all, but that meant some young people would rise up again proclaiming that there was enough. And someone would be forced to quench it.

But later that day, we did find another team. And a team it was. A team was a group of people, once different, that had joined together in a quest. Some would be successful, some would die in the process. But the unity they had formed would be what made them a team, or only people traveling in the same direction.

The fleet we had seen was no team. There was one mind behind it, one shamed and broken mind. In retrospect, we should have been predicting that same solidarity when even more spaceships descended, but thought was not a strength of our people.

They were disks, shining like our own equipment. But it would take someone as powerful as our first visitor to propel any of them with a stick.

While most of them hovered in the air, one descended vertically, spinning as it went. A metallic panel dissolved, and an alien scuttled through. As wide as we were tall, it slowly approached us.

((Hello?)) Its voice seemed to resonate in my head. All of ours: we turned to each other and the creature. It could have looked at all of us at once: it had many eyes, constantly blinking. ((Are you sentient?))

It came as a thought, simple for even us to understand. It asked us if we heard, if we knew who it was and who we were. Of course, the fact that we comprehended that much should have been enough for us to immediately assent.

Yet I was unable to respond. It was Kribzag's role to do such a thing.

It walked backwards, towards its craft, but Buctarl was able to come to her senses. "Yes! Yes, I could hear you!"

It paused, deciphering our language (I never knew how it could), and slowly approached. ((Are all these others sentient as well?))

"Me?" Jonkswa asked. "I can hear you."

((Thank you for your confirmation. How many of you are there?))

"Four."

((Of your entire species?))

Jonkswa was puzzled, but I knew what to say. "No. Many more."

((Would you please stay where you are for a moment?)) It returned to its ship, did something inside, then emerged again. ((My people are in search of a home: our planet has been destroyed. Would you be willing to share your planet with us?))

"There is no food here!" Flaquiv screamed. "And how can you play the game?"

((Perhaps we could manipulate the environment to make it conducive to growing?))

It took us a while to parse that, but Flaquiv remained adamant. "The last person that tried to change us made us like this."

Abruptly it jerked, as if listening to a message we couldn't hear, then backed away. As an afterthought, it paused at the door to its spaceship. ((Do you know if there are any other inhabitable planets in your system?))

The images flooded me. Our land, a great ball? Our sun, others' star? Other worlds like our own? There was another of complexity: this alien believed us to have already been aware of the existence of our neighbors. Maybe we had been: I didn't know where the first visitor was from. Was this creature confusing us with the Folk? Would Flaquiv react? Too much information. I couldn't handle it.

Stumbling, I vomited. Immediately, Flaquiv was at my side: not to comfort me, but to lap up what I had wasted.

The alien saw our desperation. ((This planet is as poor a home for you as it would be for me. If you will not let us transform it, would you want to leave?))

"It is not a question of "if"." Flaquiv evaded the real issue. "You will not destroy our world."

((This is not your world. You do not belong here.))

"We don't belong anywhere," Jonkswa muttered.

((Neither do my people, but we do not lose hope. We migrate, in search of a new planet. Come with us.))

Again, we could not face the prompt. "Why did that last person not offer us that opportunity?" Flaquiv replied.

((We do not know. All we know is what we can offer you.))

"All of us?"

((The four of you, certainly.))

"No." For all Flaquiv's objections, it was Jonkswa that spoke first. "We need to teach the others how important the game is."

"We do not," Buctarl countered. "There are enough who can do that."

((So you will come with me?)) it eagerly asked.

"No, she will not," Jonkswa ruled.

"I can so!"

"Hey, I'm sorry. But you don't want to go off to some world you've never heard of. What if you don't find anything?"

"It won't be worse than here." Looking down, she muttered, "I hate the game."

"Speak up!" I urged her.

"I…" she stammered. "I hate the game."

I signaled my agreement. "It's okay. You should be able to leave if you want to."

She clumsily made her way over to the spaceship, standing between it and the alien.

"There's no point," Flaquiv argued. "You might not even be able to survive on the same planet that you-whatever you are-can."

((Mercora,)) it clarified, but nobody cared.

"It might be worth it just to leave," I defended Buctarl.

"Oh, sure, go with her too," she bitterly said.

"Should I?"

We stared at each other for an indefinite time, like so much of our existence was. "Kribzag was right. The game's yours."

"I don't like it any more than Buctarl does."

"Nobody knows who Kribzag is. They know who Coaratt is."

"Then let me start over."

She looked at me again, and when she silently broke her gaze I knew I could go. Eventually, she muttered while looking away, "You and Buctarl could…"

"We won't."

"Then you'll die, as surely as we will."

"We don't mind anymore." Buctarl came back over to stand by Flaquiv. "All we want is one last shot."

"And not at the line that the disk has to cross," Jonkswa joked.

We shook our fur, but did so knowing it would be the last time.

"So I guess," I tried to sound lighthearted, "if you and Jonkswa…"

"We'll continue the game," she snapped, "and that's all."

We stood there awkwardly, not fully wanting to leave. The Mercora sensed our discomfort and tried to alleviate it. ((I've told my computer to analyze this environment. On the spaceship, we can make an area suitable for your conditions.))

Were they ours? The star that fell had changed our "planet", then the first visitor had changed us. But maybe, after all the time that had passed, there wasn't enough change.

"If we don't leave now, we're not going to be able to," I admitted, stepping away.

((Let me contact the others and let them know we're ready.)) The alien stepped into the ship.

"Nobody's stopping you," Jonkswa said sarcastically.

"This is just our chance to…" Flaquiv trailed off.

We'd spent our lifetimes in each other's company. The insignificant bit, back when the Folk were a threat and the bell was a harbinger, was long forgotten. There were no goodbyes to say: we knew each other well enough.

"Thanks for letting me do this," I finally whispered.

"You're welcome," Flaquiv's fur twitched. "Have I always been too forceful? Stopping you from doing what you want?"

"Yeah," I replied without thinking.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted that." She misinterpreted my lack of response (I was fairly stunned) and continued. "Did you?"

"No."

"Okay."

Luckily, I had no interest in staying behind, trying to start over with her. "All right. Well, I…I'm glad I could be your friend. Whatever it was we were."

"Teammates."

Our silence lingered until the Mercora returned. ((We're ready for you.))

We were ready. Buctarl clambered on, and I followed with no regrets.

The force fields the Mercora set up were indeed comfortable. I looked at the planet, not looking back, but simply looking.

I had never seen anything as magical as the takeoff into space. Our world, much bigger than I could have imagined, receded until we were in a nonexistence whiter than the land we had walked on.

Traveling through that shortcut, it took us a relatively short time (by Buctarl's and my reckoning: the Mercora found it longer) to arrive on a suitable planet. The two of us exited among mountains in a climate similar to the one we had left. We lived together for the beginning of our stay on the world, then separated.

Though I never allowed myself to come close to the residents of the planet (there were others, after the extinction of the Mercora), a few glimpsed me. I learned their language as I could, eventually able to write this down to serve as a record. I have lived long, and with any luck, will die someday. But I hope this will live after me, so that the tragedy of the Anati will never be repeated.

"Anati." The name would not be spoken for millions of the years of the planet on which I now resided. Flaquiv would utter it first, trying to introduce herself to the third race of aliens that came to our homeworld: the race that destroyed her.

"Daunla Anati."

We are Folk.


End file.
